


Lion Among Stars

by Pondermoniums



Series: ~Epilogue One Shots~ [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Universe, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Morning Sex, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:45:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums
Summary: Laurent and Damen wake up to a rare snow day in Ios.





	

Damen’s eyes opened with the vacancy of someone whose mind had yet to catch up with his body. His lungs filled and emptied in the deep rhythms of slumber while his consciousness slowly registered a chill crawling over his bare shoulder. The movement of Laurent’s shoulder blades in front of him arrested his attention. Like wings, they spread wide and floated back toward the spine, and Damen realized the king was awake.

Rising onto his elbow, Damen rubbed sleep from his eyes and waited for his movements to rouse Laurent, but his long blond hair did not move from its place on his pillow. Damen leaned over, his hand habitually touching the end of a soft tress, moving a stray lock from his ear…and noticing how the heavy lashes blinked over eyes that were focused on the window.

It was snowing.

Flakes danced past the ribbed glass in various sizes: specks of white and fuzzy clusters riveting Laurent’s groggy stare. The edges of the glass had fogged with the contrasting heat from the fire Damen had relit during the night. Laurent refused servants to enter after nightfall.

Damen leaned down to kiss softly behind Laurent’s ear. Laurent blinked sharply, the only sign of surprise.

“It has not snowed here in many years,” Damen voiced but a bubble broke in his throat. He cleared it but Laurent’s lashes barely fluttered. Damen moved his hand to slowly rake his hair out of the way, the pad of a thumb caressing the pinna of his ear. Laurent’s eyelids began to slide shut underneath his ministrations so Damen said warmly, “I’m going to wash and bring a bit of breakfast.”

He went to the room adjacent to bathe but when he returned the large bed was stripped and Laurent sat in the window seat, the covers gathered around him. The window was open, making the towel around Damen’s hips a poor commodity. Reaching for the crimson himation from the night before, Damen covered his shoulders and went to his king.

The winter light cast Laurent’s complexion into cooler tones than he already had; the warm yellow in his hair now ashen and his eyes rested heavily in their sockets, almost too large for his face.

Damen sat opposite him, giving Laurent space but close enough for his thigh to rest against Laurent’s foot. “Have you slept?”

“No.”

Sometimes he did not sleep. He did not need to ask. Laurent did not need to answer. Damen could see the indigo under his eyes. So he simply said, “Is there anything I can do?”

Laurent did not answer immediately. He was silent, considering, for a long time. If he did not want Damen near, he was never silent on that.

Laurent’s head tilted for his hair to press against the threaded pane of glass. Fingers peeked out of the sapphire covers, reaching for Damen. He met those fingers, the pads pink and warm. Damen pulled them close, drawing a long expanse of arm out of the covers. He kissed the pads of Laurent’s fingers and watched the winter drain from his face. Warmth bloomed in his cheeks and filled Laurent’s lips with a lovely pink. The long ends of his hair mingled with the gold embroidery around his shoulders.

“Auguste loved the winter.”

Damen smiled softly. “Was he the sort to adore all seasons?”

“Yes,” Laurent admitted. “But he…he held winter in a special fondness. The number of mornings I awoke to his nose pressed against mine, waking me so I could hear the winter birds singing at dawn were innumerable.”

Damen laughed in his chest, softly as if to not disturb the memory Laurent was sharing. “Did you ever wage battles with snow?”

Laurent appeared puzzled. “What? No.”

“Ah,” Damen leaned back against the wall. He lifted his knee for their interlocked fingers to rest upon. “How fortunate. Last it snowed, Kastor woke me with a ball of snow to my face.”

Laurent blinked and then his head fell back with his laughter. Snow blew through the window to speckle the blue quilted silk around him but he hardly noticed. “No, we raced our ponies. The servants were terrified the ponies’ ankles would break but the real danger was coming back soaking. Father would laugh and laugh because the ponies kicked up so much snow. ‘The inside of a geode,’ he once called me.”

Damen chuckled and flipped a corner of cloth over their arms to cover the goose flesh on Laurent’s. “He wasn’t wrong. Hard and grey on the outside. Even sharper on the inside. At least you sparkle.”

“Stop, I’ll retch,” Laurent’s eyes rolled but Damen guffawed. The tip of his nose reminded Damen of summer tomatoes. His laughter faded as he noticed an eyelash resting against Laurent’s nose.

“Close your eyes,” he said, reaching forward. Laurent did, letting him brush his fingers along the delicate area. The back of Damen’s knuckle found snowflakes in his lashes, and Damen wondered, if he were to show this moment to his younger self, how the reaction would have been.

His fingers drifted along Laurent’s temple and then Laurent’s eyes opened when he felt Damen’s hand on his knee. Those irises were full of something Damen couldn’t read. “What is it, love?”

Laurent’s lips parted, and it was an expression Damen recognized until, “You're doing it again. My chest hurts.”

Damen frowned. “From love, not a physical ailment, I hope,” he uttered, deadpan.

“Is there a difference?” Laurent retorted accusatorially.

Damen grinned and Laurent visibly blushed against those dimples. “We are in the middle of our third year together. I daresay you are remarkably healthy. I’m honored.”

“Flattered, more like.”

“That too,” Damen teased.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“I am.”

“Seeing me close to begging for it.”

“Not that,” Damen corrected. “I should think it a welcome start to the day, knowing your spouse still tolerates your existence.”

Laurent released a laugh. “There is a way of putting it.”

Damen laughed with him, and it felt wonderful. “What would you have me do, then?”

Laurent’s mirth faded. “You still need to ask permission?”

“I like to,” Damen confirmed. “Sometimes I don’t think I read you as well as I would like.”

He did not need to look to confirm Laurent’s gaze on him. He could feel the somber eyes watching him, but when he did look, Laurent’s features were soft. “I’d say I am perfectly legible to you, Damianos. That has always been your most irritating quality.”

Leaning forward onto his knees, Laurent kissed him. Damen’s lips were soft and familiar, meeting Laurent’s kiss for kiss, each one warming his mouth more. Damen’s hands reactively found Laurent’s legs, but remained there. Laurent released Damen’s mouth, the air heavy between them. Damen met two oceans staring back at him.

“Do it,” he ordered, in almost a whisper. “Touch me.”

“Laurent,” he breathed.

“Put your hands on me,” he said impatiently. The covers had slipped around him, opening to reveal the hard pink member between Laurent’s legs. Damen reached for his pelvis, gathering Laurent on his lap while their combined fabrics pooled around them. The soft skin of Laurent’s cock was hot against Damen’s abdomen, his own trapped under the towel but he made no moves to free it. Laurent’s chin lowered for a kiss but Damen’s mouth found his throat. He rocked Laurent backward and heard him sigh above him. One of his arms wrapped strongly around his waist while the other lifted to cradle Laurent’s head so Damen could pepper kisses under his jaw. The point of his tongue pressed a trail down the column of muscle to Laurent’s collarbone before planting a loud kiss there—

“Damianos,” Laurent huffed. “It’s cold.”

“This happens when you open a window while it’s snowing,” Damen responded, but lifted Laurent with ease and gently deposited him in front of the plain marble fireplace. The fusion of the two kingdoms had lent some impressive additions to the otherwise unadorned Akielon culture, especially in the palace where Veretian diplomats spent long periods of time during the year. But _here,_ Laurent insisted it remain as Damen wanted it, and he had been surprised when Damen commissioned Veretian blue bedclothes.

 _There is only so much red I can stand,_ had been his reason, but as Damen paused to spread the covers beneath Laurent, it was a lion embroidered with gold thread that rested beneath them, among Laurent’s ornate stars.

Laurent gave the towel a yank, causing Damen to squawk, “There’s a pin!”

Laurent laughed merrily, finding the needle and tossing it over his head. Damen took the chance to hold Laurent’s hand over his head, pressing their bodies together. Laurent’s stomach pushed into his with his breath. Cold air prickled on Damen’s ass as Laurent gave the towel another yank, but a warm leg draped around his thigh. Damen felt himself pulled close for Laurent’s teeth to worry at his ear. His length jerked against Laurent’s; Damen leaned to the side, his mouth searching for purchase without interrupting the sharp tingles spiraling from his ear to his groin.

The leg around him hooked behind his knee and Damen felt the floor hit his back. Warm light splashed across Laurent astride him while cold haloed his hair. One of Damen’s hands unconsciously found Laurent’s ribcage, but Damen was too busy watching the soft grin flash on his husband’s mouth.

“You still look like that.”

He blinked. “Like what?”

“Like a fool,” Laurent hummed. “Like I’m the sky.”

Damen felt his lips curve. “That’s an apt way of putting it.”

Laurent’s features softened, then, wilting almost to the point of pain. Damen sat up so his hand could reach Laurent’s face. He cradled the sculpted bone cushioned in velvet flesh, his fingers tangling in his long gold tresses. Damen liked them long. He liked them short. He adored Laurent.

“Damen-Damianos,” Laurent sobbed weakly but not out of despair. “I’m still wet.”

And he was. Damen’s lips found the bud of a nipple while his hands caressed Laurent’s soft but firm ass. He found the ring of muscle that was soft from last night’s oil. Carefully inserting a finger, he met some lubricant. “It’s not enough, love.”

Laurent exhaled impatiently. “Always so careful. I’m less delicate than you think.”

Nonetheless, Damen had him in his arms and was standing to take him to the bed, where their glass bottle of oil stood sentinel on the bedside table. “Did you ever think this was less about you and more about my sanity?”

“Oh?” Laurent’s eyebrows curved in piqued intrigue. “What have I told you about my crueler nature, husband?”

Damen chuckled deep in his chest, relishing the rush of scarlet the sound made in Laurent’s throat and cheeks. He set him on the mattress and remained standing. “Tease as you like, but I know you like it slow. And wet.” His fingers set the stopper down and dipped into the oil. “You like it smooth and slow.” He coated his shaft so it glistened, beads of oil gathering and almost heavy enough to drip off when he angled his cock against Laurent’s opening—

Damen made an undignified sound as Laurent successfully pulled him onto the bed and threw him onto his back once more. Golden hair flew around his head like a soft and wild mane, his features triumphant as he once again straddled Damen’s hips. Damen gaped like a fish before snapping his mouth shut against the thrusts of Laurent’s erection against his own. Laurent’s fingertips pressed into his chest, wantonly leveraging himself and finding his pleasure.

He laughed breathily. “And how do you like it?”

Damen’s breath was ragged. “What is this game?”

“No game.” Laurent’s thrusts were steady and unrelenting. “Just you. Just me. Does it bother you to not be in control in bed?”

Damen grinned wolfishly, his large hands finding Laurent’s ass. “Not at all.”

He squeezed the ample flesh, the taut and sensitive muscles causing Laurent to exclaim a soft yelp, falling forward so they were nose to nose. “I enjoy you on top of me,” he rumbled.

Laurent was holding his breath, until he leaned forward and took Damen’s bottom lip in his teeth and pulled. Damen moaned, following the pull into Laurent’s mouth and sitting up; Laurent’s arms crossed behind his neck as they sat together, kissing and sucking and tasting one another ravenously. Damen was rigid under his ass, his cock gently pulsing with his heartbeat against Laurent’s flesh.

He gasped against Laurent’s swollen red lips when he felt fingertips on his cock head. Laurent brought him to his entrance, lifting and tilting his pelvis so when he sank down, Damen rose inside him. 

“Ah! Mmph,” Laurent moaned, his head tipping backward. Damen licked his throat as Laurent’s hips bottomed out against his own. He heard another vocal sigh as Laurent partly rocked, partly thrust against him. He lifted his knees, bringing his ass flush against Damen. Their chests touched, Laurent holding Damen’s gaze for a moment before opening his throat and simply grinding against him.

Damen’s head fell forward, resting in the curve of his neck while they moved together. Laurent’s orgasm was slow to build, but when he was close his pace became shuttering. Damen gripped Laurent’s hips to steady him, adding his share of control so when his climax came, Laurent surrendered to it, trusting Damen to hold him together.

Afterward, Damen was combing his fingers through Laurent’s hair. “In the north, when it snows, sometimes the oceans freeze,” he voiced from his place against Damen’s side, cocooned in the covers.

“The oceans? Does the salt not stymy that?”

“In the far north,” Laurent confirmed. “The…waves…frozen in motion…”

Damen peeked down to see his bronze lashes heavily shut. His fingers continued their tracks through his hair, swatting aside thoughts and dark dreams for Laurent to finally rest. He'd completely forgotten about breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> You can bet Nikandros is outside the door, waiting for the right moment to remind these idiots that kings don't get snow days.


End file.
